


The Pirate Queen

by Rachel_Sophie95



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, Blood and Violence, Gen, Georgian Period, Gun Violence, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Non-Explicit Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Pirates, Slavery, Slaves, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Sophie95/pseuds/Rachel_Sophie95
Summary: Oh I'll tell you a tale of the Pirate Queen, a she-wolf who reigned the Caribbean Sea, with a pistol ready and a cutlass keen, the villainous, infamous Annabeth ChaseBorn in Ireland scandalously. Bastard daughter to a prosperous lawyer, shunned suitor and society for the love of a pirate boy.So Calico Jackson and Annabeth Chase, passionate lovers, villainous plunderers, on a ship, the Argo II, ahoy!-Description taken from the song "Anne Bonny " by Karilene
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Hazel Levesque & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Calypso/Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque & Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Luke Castellan/Annabeth Chase, Nico di Angelo & Will Solace
Kudos: 14





	The Pirate Queen

Kingston, Jamaica 1718

Annabeth always dreamed of wearing Mam's best dress on her wedding day. Though a decade out of fashion, the salmon-colored brocade mantua was still the loveliest garment she'd ever seen. The strands of gold woven into the fabric shimmered like a heatwave. Sliding the stiff fabric over her body brought Mam a little close back from the grave.   
"Careful, Hazel, " Annabeth said. The maid laced her into her stays while she stroked her softly curved belly.  
Now that Annabeth was to be a mother, she might as well become a wife, truly a wife this time. Percy was a better man than Luke could ever be.   
A fair number of women, even ladies of the highest quality, found themselves with-child on their wedding days. As long as they made their way to the altar, no one would think less of them. Marriage certificates can be backdated and the farthingale and heavily draped skirt of a gown can help hide a swelling stomach. When Da gave the salmon-colored mantua to Mam as a gift before they left Cork, Mam carried Annabeth's short-lived baby brother, so it would do to hide her condition at this point. Though Mam hadn't worn the mantua on her wedding day, she never got to have one.

Annabeth fanned herself with her hand. The August day threatened to be devilishly hot. Summer in Jamaica was as close to Hell as she hoped ever to get.   
"Hazel, A pheata, " she said. "Would you be a pet and open up the window?"   
Hazel put down the mantua's stomacher and dipped a quick curtsy.   
"Yes, Mistress Chase."   
She parted the shutters and let in a cool breeze coming off the ocean, perfumed by the honeysuckle and red jasmine growing in the garden. A flycatcher twittered in the mango tree outside of Annabeth's bedroom. The mango tree had provided a means for Annabeth to climb out her window and sneak off to meet with Percy. During these trysts, their child was conceived.   
Hazel floated primly back to Annabeth's side. She started pinning the stomacher to Annabeth's stays.   
"What time you meeting Captain Jackson?" she said.   
Annabeth smoothed her petticoat.   
"At ten o'clock."   
She and Percy chose ten in the morning at the Church of Saint Thomas the Apostle for their wedding. That was the time and place of their first meeting.   
A church seemed like an unlikely place to make the acquaintance of a pirate.  
When Hazel finished pinning Annabeth's stomacher in place, the little maid stared out of the window, across the lawn to the sea. Annabeth stroked her soft, dusky cheek. "...and what are you thinking of, A pheata," she said. "Are you perhaps dreaming of your own wedding day?"   
Hazel blinked at her. She was a pretty lass with big golden-brown eyes, like two Spanish doubloons. Soon, she would have a sweetheart, if she didn't have one already.   
Hazel stared down at her shoes. "No, it's just pretty outside."   
Hestia, a thin, black woman with a narrow face that rarely smiled, strode in Annabeth's bedroom as if it were her own. She carried a bouquet of wild orchids and looked Annabeth over with critical eyes.   
"Who's this grand lady?" She said to Hazel. "Not our Yellow Parrot?"   
Yellow Parrot was the nickname Hestia gave Annabeth when she was a child, because of her blond hair and that she was usually up in a tree or annoying everyone with her squawking.   
Annabeth gave her a treacly grin. "If I'm a grand lady, it's thanks to you, Hes."   
The old witch was as arrogant as a queen. If anything was going to soften her, flattery would.   
Hestia's expression stayed as flinty as before. "Yellow Parrot."   
Annabeth sighed. She'd made a valiant effort.   
If Annabeth was fit for polite society, she had Hestia to thank for it. Da was an affectionate and indulgent father, but when Mam died, he did not quite know what to do with her. So he mostly let Annabeth have her own way. Annabeth spent the first couple years after Mam's death left to her own devices, climbing and exploring the plantation's expansive and overgrown garden and browbeating the cook into giving her treats. Hestia took it upon herself to bring her unruly little mistress in line with a strange type of tough love. Whenever Annabeth fidgeted during her lessons or wouldn't eat what was on her plate, Hestia shot her a glare and hissed "yellow parrot" through her teeth in a way that made Annabeth want to behave out of spite.   
Annabeth raised her arms so Hazel could help her into the mantua's over-gown. "Well, then, what do you want, Hes?"   
Hestia presented her with the bouquet. "To bring you this."   
Annabeth lowered her arms and accepted the orchids. The pink color of the orchids suited Annabeth's gown and their perfume was delightful, something like citrus and spices.   
She leaned over and kissed Hestia's cheek.   
"Thank you. They're lovely."   
Hestia gave Annabeth a rare glimpse of her perfect white teeth. Annabeth beamed with pride at winning such a reward.   
Hazel bustled over to answer a knock at the door.   
"Is everyone decent?" Her father said from the other room.   
Annabeth smoothed the elegant folds of the mantua's turned back over-skirt. "Come in, Da."   
Frederick Chase entered the room, wearing his best suit and periwig and dabbing his face with a handkerchief. Annabeth giggled. Poor man. He sweated to death in all that seldom-worn dark velvet.   
The day's heat was made worse by all the warmth coming from the kitchen. Roasted pigeon, boiled mutton, and baked fruit pies sent their steamy perfume throughout the house, tickling Annabeth's nose and making her mouth water.   
Both her heart and her stomach ached. Would Da's dark velvet suit and this sumptuous feast go to waste?   
"What news of the Argo II?" Annabeth asked her father.   
Perhaps Da heard something about Percy and his crew in the dockside warehouses and coffee shops of Kingston when he made the rounds that morning?   
Da continued mopping his brow. "Nothing," he said.   
Annabeth lowered his eyes and turned towards the window. Her heart sank below the surface of Kingston Harbor. "Nothing?" She replied.   
"I'm sorry, A leanbh," Da gave her cheek a sympathetic stroke. "But don't worry. I'm sure Captain Jackson will be there waiting for you today."   
Annabeth answered him with a weak smile. What else could he have said to make her feel better?   
"Thank you, Da," She said.   
Frederick Chase was an affectionate and indulgent father but ever since Mam's death, he'd never quite known what to do with his daughter. He mostly let her have her own way and do as she pleased. She would have turned out quite the savage if Hestia had not dragged her kicking and screaming towards civilized behavior. He struggled at such times as this but he made a valiant effort.   
Da kissed Annabeth's forehead. "And with such a beautiful bride, how could he stay away?"   
Hazel held up a mirror so that Annabeth could see how she looked.   
The mantua suited Annabeth surprisingly well. Mam had the exact opposite coloring from her's. Annabeth favored her father: ruddy skin and fair hair. Mam had been a pale brunette. The only things they shared were grey eyes and their tall, slim builds.   
Thankfully, the bodice wasn't too loose or the skirt too short, and the pink brocade didn't make Annabeth look red in the face.   
Annabeth laughed to herself at how silly she was being, worrying about how she would look for a groom who might not even be there. But her appearance was the one thing about this situation she could control.   
The ensemble needed one last touch.   
"Hazel," Annabeth said. The maid's ears pricked up like a hunting dog. "Fetch my jewelry box, please."   
Hazel fluttered off to fetch the jewelry box. She opened its lid and Annabeth rummaged through the baubles until she found a coral necklace. Annabeth's fingers caressed the red beads as she placed them around her throat. Mam had gifted this necklace to Annabeth prior to their departure from Cork; it was the last gift Annabeth received from her. It also happened to go perfectly with the salmon-colored mantua.   
Hestia snuck up behind Annabeth and cupped Annabeth's face in her hands. Annabeth gasped and almost dropped her necklace. Damn the old witch for pouncing on her like a cat.   
Hestia cackled. "Our yellow parrot cleans up well," she said.   
Annabeth stuck her tongue out at Hestia and continued with the clasp of the necklace. There. Now she was as ready as she would ever be.

The Chase family carriage drove past the giant kapok tree that stood at the end of the lawn. As a child, Annabeth had climbed its branches as high as she dared and watched the ships in the harbor below. She still enjoyed sitting among the kapok's vast roots and dozing and daydreaming. A part of Annabeth wished to jump out of the carriage, hike up her skirts, and scale the tree's limbs to see if she could spot the Argo II. If she could shout loud enough, Percy and his crew might be able to hear her.   
But Annabeth was a grand lady now, a wife and mother-to-be, not the yellow parrot of her childhood.   
The pit in Annabeth's stomach grew deeper as the carriage rolled closer to the church. For the thousandth time that morning, she assured herself that Percy was there waiting for her. Though a pirate, Percy was a man of honor. He would never abandon her as Luke had.   
Annabeth's heart pounded harder when the carriage dropped her and her father at the church. Da offered his arm.   
"Are you ready, Beth?" He said.   
"Yes," she replied. Annabeth brushed the dust from the road off her skirt then accepted her father's arm. She took a deep breath and entered the church.   
A few family friends were scattered throughout the pews but no bridegroom standing at the altar. Annabeth took another series of deep breaths.   
Don't panic, Chase. Perhaps he's running late because of a life or death matter.   
Maybe the Argo II was sinking and Percy had to help get his crew to safety or he'd been shot and desperately needed a surgeon. He would walk into the church any moment either soaking wet or with his arm in a sling. There had to be a good excuse for why he wasn't there.   
Annabeth shivered under the critical stares of the wedding guests. They passed meaningful glances amongst themselves. Where is he? What, no bridegroom and a belly already swelling? But what else would you expect from such a creature?   
Annabeth kept her countenance and continued walking down the aisle. Damn them! Damn them all!   
A slim, genteel-looking young man swept a low bow to Annabeth as she passed his pew. He wore a suit of steel blue linen, a turquoise silk waistcoat embroidered in green and gold, and his own shoulder-length dark hair, un-powdered.   
The young man was remarkably handsome with a strong jaw and hooked nose taken from a Roman coin. Only a star-shaped scar on his left cheek marred his classical good looks-Annabeth would recognize that scar anywhere.   
"Good day, Mistress Jackson," Percy said. His green eyes twinkled.   
Annabeth didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or slap him. This is how they first met.   
Percy had dipped a courtly bow to Annabeth and her father when they passed by his pew at this very church.   
Annabeth knew what he was right away. She could tell by his flashy, brightly colored clothes. A prosperous and respectable merchant or planter might wear well-tailored suits made from fine fabrics but always in sober tones with minimal buttons and laces. Being a fop was ill-bred. Pirates, on the other hand, liked to show off their ill-gotten gains on their backs. The successful ones were unashamed dandies, who could carry a whole haberdasher's shop on their persons.   
Percy dressed like a duke and had the manners of one as well.   
When the service ended, Percy approached them at a fruit cart near the church steps. He introduced himself to Annabeth's father by referencing a mutual acquaintance. But Annabeth could tell from the way he cast glances in her direction that it was she who interested him. They chatted a little and when Annabeth went home, she threw Luke's ring down the hole in the outhouse.  
Percy took Annabeth's arm from her father. "I'll take it from here, sir," he said.   
Arm-in-arm, Percy and Annabeth strolled towards the altar. Annabeth exchanged her deep breaths for sighs of relief.   
She beamed at the po-faced wedding guests who had doubted that Percy would show up. The fact that these respectable people attending the wedding of a known pirate and a bastard girl whose father got her on his housekeeper made Annabeth giggle a little.   
"Where'd your father gather up this flock of ravens and hens?" Percy whispered to her.   
"Blast me if I know," Annabeth replied. With her free hand, Annabeth grabbed the lace jabot at Percy's throat. "You better have a good excuse."   
Percy batted his beautiful green eyes. "Sorry, Wise Girl, I do not. I was held up at another wedding."   
"I beg your pardon." Annabeth glared at him. What in God's name was he doing at another damned wedding when he was supposed to be at their wedding?   
"Easy there, Annie," he gave her the cheeky crooked grin that always cooled Annabeth's fiery temper. "I was just the best man. One of my crew was wed earlier this morning. I also stood as godfather to his first-born, who was baptized this morning as well." Percy let out a dramatic sigh. "God's blood! And I thought trying to navigate the Bermuda reefs without getting scuttled was an ordeal. But, for the sake of brevity, I'll spare you the details."   
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Oh, will you?"   
"Valdez is a good man, though a Spaniard, but I don't envy him his new wife. Aye, Senoria Calypso's bonny to look at but she's a virago with a temper even hotter than yours, my little spitfire. But, in my experience, viragos and spitfires are good in bed. That's why Valdez and I put up with our women ."   
"That's all very nice." Annabeth blushed. "But why couldn't you have waited at the altar like a groom should."   
Percy laughed. "And I thought recreating the first time we met would be a romantic gesture."   
Annabeth smiled and shook her head. She had her hands full being married to this one.

After the service, Annabeth, now Mrs. Perseus Jackson, as far as the world knew, knelt by a tombstone in the graveyard behind the Church of Saint Thomas the Apostle. She placed her bouquet of pink orchids at the foot of the large slab of black slate, carved with winged skulls, weeping willows, and Athena Pallas, 1681 to 1707. Below were the words "beloved daughter, sister, and mother," the title "wife" conspicuously absent.   
"Sorry they're a bit wilted, Mam," Annabeth said. She dropped the dropping flowers against the tombstone. "But it was a beautiful wedding. I only wish you could have been there."   
Annabeth wasn't able to say the same about when she married Luke. They'd wed in a tavern with only a few drunken sailors for witnesses. Luke fled Jamaica a few days afterward and she hadn't seen him in three years. Such a marriage wasn't worthy of the name and wasn't valid in the sight of God or Man. Percy was her true husband.   
A large, rough hand rested on Annabeth's shoulder. Annabeth looked up to see Da smiling down at Mam's grave with misty eyes.   
Buried there was the woman he'd dearly loved, who'd dearly loved him in return, more than his harridan of a wife. Helen, Mrs. Chase in name only, tried to pass off her two bastard brats as Da's legitimate heirs. Mam and Annabeth were his real family.   
"I wish I could have met her?" Percy said. With a wide grin on his face, he cut a peeled orange in half with a fruit knife. "Do you think she would've liked me?"   
Annabeth took half of the orange that Percy offered to her and sucked out some of the juice. Her throat felt like parchment after sitting for an hour inside a stuffy church on such a hot day. The juice from the orange would quench her thirst for a while, at least until she returned home and could refresh herself with some rum punch.  
"Mam was a wise lady. She would've known you as scoundrel right away."   
Mam was never anyone's fool. No shopkeeper or overseer ever pulled anything over on her. If they had, they certainly wouldn't make that mistake twice.   
"A wise lady indeed," Percy laughed.   
"Your little girl's a wife now." Annabeth stroked the words, Athena Pallas, on the tombstone. "A true wife."

"I'm surprised that your father approved of this," Percy said. He stretched out, spreading his long, lean arms across the pillows. "A pirate isn't what most respectable men would want for a son-in-law."   
Da hadn't objected to Annabeth and Percy's courtship, but rather encouraged it by frequently inviting him to their dinner parties. He must not have seen a pirate but rather a wealthy suitor for his daughter. If Percy didn't have a gentleman's pedigree, he at least had a gentleman's fortune.   
Money was the only thing that mattered in Jamaica and no one particularly cared how you got it.   
Annabeth rested her head on his chest. "He's probably relieved that someone's willing to take his wayward daughter off his hands."   
Da had laughed when Annabeth told him she wished to marry Percy. "Maybe he'll be able to finally make an honest goodwife out of you," he said.   
"Wayward daughter?" Percy kissed the top of her head.   
"You're well aware that you've bought soiled goods, Captain Jackson."   
"But still, the world will think that you've lowered yourself by wedding me."   
"I'm the bastard daughter of an Irish lawyer." Annabeth stroked the dark, downy hair on Percy's chest. "Not the Princess of Wales and Lord knows I wouldn't trade places with that fat, German cow, Caroline."   
The etchings Annabeth saw of Caroline von Ansbach, wife to Prince George Augustus of Wales, showed a stout, matronly she-elephant. Annabeth fancied herself much comelier.   
Annabeth wound her arms around Percy's neck and kissed his cheek. "...And perhaps Da didn't want his grandchild to be born a bastard," she said.   
She held her breath as she waited for Percy to respond. Her heart battered against her ribs. Would he be angry with her for waiting until now to tell him? Would he think that she was trying to trap him and tie him down? She was able to breathe again when he smiled and let out a laugh.   
"Ah, I noticed that you're looking particularly round and ripe." Percy stroked her belly. "Is that why you asked for the marriage to be backdated to March?"   
"I started having my suspicions about a month ago." Annabeth lowered her eyes. "I would've let you know but I didn't know where to reach you, and I was afraid that if I told you, you might not have come back at all."   
"Why wouldn't I come back? You've given me so much to return to." Percy smiled and gave her belly a gentle pat.   
Someone knocked on one of the bedposts. Annabeth gasped and covered herself with a sheet while Percy parted the bed curtains to see who disturbed them.   
Hazel stood holding a tray of food. Her golden-brown eyes were as large as two Spanish doubloons.   
"I... I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I thought you might be hungry, so I brought up some leftovers from the kitchen."   
Annabeth might have struck the girl for barging in on them like this, but she'd never had the heart to beat Hazel. One might as well strike a newborn kitten.   
"Thanks, sweetheart," Percy said. He dismissed Hazel with a nod, then took the tray and placed it on the bed.   
Hazel blushed, curtsied, and backed away.   
After closing the curtains, Percy turned to Annabeth. "Your Hazel is a thoughtful little creature. How did she know we'd be hungry?"   
The tray held fricasseed chicken and lobster, swimming in plates of white wine-cream sauce and two glasses, close to overflowing with sack posset. Their smells made Annabeth's mouth water.   
"Being married certainly works up and appetite." She gave Percy and a cheeky grin.   
Percy picked up a glass of sack posset and gulped it down. "And a thirst." Some of it split onto the patchwork coverlet.   
"Easy there." Annabeth mopped up the spillage with a napkin. "This quilt took me a year to make."  
Percy pointed to a chest at the foot of the bed. "Before we eat, I have a wedding present for you."   
Annabeth's heart leaped. The spoiled child that she was, she thrilled at the thought of presents. A million ideas as to what treasures Percy might have brought back danced through her mind. She got off the bed, careful not to disturb the tray of food, and opened the chest.   
A bolt of pale gold Lyon silk shone atop the piles of bleached linen shifts and petticoats. Annabeth ran her fingers across the fabric. It's texture, as soft as flower petals, and color, like the glow from a candle, were exquisite.  
Percy finished chewing a mouthful of chicken fricassee. "Lovely, isn't it?" he said. "It came from a French merchant ship my crew and I captured."   
"It's stunning." Annabeth neatly folded the silk and put it back in the chest.   
"Being the captain's wife has its benefits, Wise Girl."   
She climbed back onto the bed and began to cut up a piece of lobster. "I'll have something made out of that fabric for after the babe is born and I get my figure back. Imagine, me flouncing about in front of Kingston society, glittering like a Spanish treasure ship."   
"And why shouldn't you?" Percy took her hand and kissed it. "No pirate ever took a rarer prize."  
Annabeth rested her head on Percy's shoulder. "This is a nicer present than anything Luke ever gave me."   
The only thing of value she'd received from Luke was the ring he won in a dice game, the same ring she threw down the toilet.   
"About Luke." Percy knit his brow. "Is there any chance he might come back and start trouble?"   
Percy had every right to be worried. Both of their parents had lived together as man and wife, despite one parent being already married to someone else. Sally Jackson, Percy's mother, died in prison after her husband had her arrested for committing adultery and bigamy with Percy's father. And now Percy had taken up with a woman who'd been similarly abandoned by her husband.   
"I wouldn't worry too much about Luke." Annabeth squeezed Percy's hand. "I haven't heard anything from him in three years and he thinks too highly of himself to admit to what he did."   
Luke also didn't have a pot to piss in, so he couldn't afford to press his claim on her in court.   
Percy lay back against his pillow. "For both of our sakes, I hope you're right."   
The fiery shades of a Caribbean sunset dyed the plaster walls of Annabeth's bedroom. When the sun disappeared below Kingston Harbor, these blazing hues disappeared like a candle being blown out. Waves of drowsiness broke over Annabeth and she drifted off to sleep in the arms of her new husband.


End file.
